


December

by kissability



Series: Gawsten Oneshots [2]
Category: Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad, Wintertime, pure angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 11:34:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11417103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissability/pseuds/kissability
Summary: A Gawsten one-shot based on December by Neck Deep.





	December

(Stumbled around the block a thousand times  
You missed every call that I had tried  
So now I'm giving up  
A heartbreak in mid December)

It had been a year since they'd split up. A long, difficult year. Geoff walked through the streets of Chicago, the snow crunching underneath his feet. It had been an entire year, and he couldn't stop thinking about him. His name echoed through his head, pumped through his veins. All he could hear, all he could feel was that fucking boy's name.

He stopped calling after two weeks. Awsten hadn't disconnected his number or anything, but he just never picked up, or called in the first place. Geoff understood. That was a sign, a sign that he wanted to stop talking to him. 

He fucking hated this city. He hated the snow. He hated the buildings. Every fucking thing here reminded him of the boy he once loved. Scratch that, loves.

It had been a long, difficult year. As said before. A long, difficult year of constant reminders and a constant longing for the same man who left what felt like only hours ago. Every day it was the same.

Except for this time of year. Right now, it was far more enhanced.

(You don't give a fuck  
You never remember me  
While you're pulling on his jeans  
Getting lost in the big city)

It was a year since Awsten left him for someone else. The guy he left with's name didn't matter, though. All that mattered was him.

He missed it. It being the times they'd spent together.

He missed walking down the street, hands woven tightly together, not caring what everyone else thought of them. The way their fingers were either too freezing or too sweaty, but they were too involved to care.

The way his heterochromic eyes shined in the sunlight. The way his already pale skin turned ghostly white.

He missed kissing the side of his head every night before they went to bed, right beside eachother, and woke up the same way.

He missed everything.

(I was looking out our window  
Watching all the cars go  
Wondering if I'll see Chicago  
Or a sunset on the west coast  
Or will I die in the cold  
Feeling blue and alone  
I wonder if you'll ever hear this song on your stereo)

He still lived in the same apartment. He was supposed to move out months ago, but he couldn't force himself to. It felt wrong. Even if it had been a year since he'd gone, it still felt like Awsten's apartment too.

The wall colors even reminded Geoff of him. He remembered looking at paint swatches together, Awsten making fun of him for being a gay man yet knowing hear nothing about color theory. Awsten's hair products were still scattered across the bathroom counter, staying exactly the way he left them. His cologne was still on the top of their dresser. Hell, a pile of his clothes still laid on the floor. Geoff couldn't bring himself to even do the other boy's laundry.

It was unhealthy. Geoff knew that. Yet still, every night, Geoff felt himself trying to catch a whiff of his ex-lover's scent, and even occasionally sprayed a body pillow with his cologne, pretending that it was him that he was holding rather than a pillowcase stuffed with cotton.

It wasn't the same.

On those nights, he remembered their plans to move to San Diego together, back to Geoff's home. Get a house, maybe start a family. He desperately craved the memory of looking at houses together to return.

(I hope you get your ball room floor  
Your perfect house with rose red doors  
I'm the last thing you'd remember  
It's been a long lonely December)

God, how he missed hearing Awsten go on about living in a big house with bright red doors and huge rooms with marble flooring. Geoff used to make fun of it, saying a mansion was way out of their budget, but here he was, desperate to hear Awsten's voice begging him for a house with ballroom floors. 

He was desperate as it was, to just hear Awsten say anything to him, but he knew it probably wasn't going to happen. It was a different time.

The slush on the ground made him slip slightly as he nearly reached their apartment complex. It wasn't just his, alright? It was theirs.

(Cast me aside to show yourself in a better light  
I came out grieving, barely breathing and you came out alright  
But I'm sure you'll take his hand  
I hope he's better than I ever could have been  
My mistakes were not intentions this is a list of my confessions I couldn't say)

He just left one day. Left a goodbye note briefly explaining why, vaguely, and was gone. Packed some of his stuff, and when Geoff woke up, he was gone.

He sighed, thinking about Awsten with somebody other than himself. It hurt, immensely, yet he found that it was comforting to know that maybe Awsten really was happy.

Geoff, however, knew it was more than just Awsten falling for somebody else.

(Pain is never permanent but tonight it's killing me)

And the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to disappear. It was his fault he relapsed. It was his fault he drank until he passed out, and mostly, it was his fault that he left.

(I wish I'd known that less is more  
But I was passed out on the floor  
That's the last thing I remember  
It's been a long lonely December)

Alcohol controlled him at that point. He knew that coping with the stress of losing his job, losing everything, with drinking was the worst possible decision he could've made. He knew getting blackout drunk was the final straw. He just wished he was sober enough to convince him to stay. 

He wished he'd just stayed. Geoff was barely sober now, but with the help of his brother, he had been - for the past five months. Getting through the first six or seven months of the breakup would've been impossible sober, and Geoff knew that.

He probably would've killed himself.

(I miss your face  
You're in my head  
There's so many things that I should have said  
A year of suffering, a lesson learned)

Geoff needed him, more than anything. It was too obvious at this point. He stepped into their apartment, seeing Awsten's stuff everywhere. He hung his jacket up, but not before grabbing his phone out of the pocket.

It was time. It'd been a year, and a hell of a lot can change in a year. But that didn't matter, not to Geoff.

So he dialed the familiar number into his phone, and held it up to his ear. It rung a few times.

Someone answered.

(I hope you get your ball room floor  
Your perfect house with rose red doors  
I'm the last thing you'd remember  
It's been a long lonely December  
I wish I'd known that less is more  
But I was passed out on the floor  
That's the last thing I remember  
It's been a long lonely December)

"Hey, Awsten. It's uh- it's Geoff. And it's December. I don't know if you've noticed, but it's been a year. I miss you. I love you - still, I know. I just never stopped. It's kind of pathetic. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, for the past twelve months. It's driving me insane."

The person on the other end of the line hung up.


End file.
